Them Changes
The coffeehouse has been a place for some of the locals to hang out and jam; Buster, the old blues man, asked me about it recently. "So, you gonna be a bandleader now, huh?" Not yet, Buster. Supporting someone else's original vision is something I've done for years, but now I might get a chance to do my thing. All I need to do now is determine what "my thing" is.
Jeremiah's, the steakhouse across the street from the coffeehouse/antique store, was a recent place for my continuing musical exposure. The piano bar at Jeremiah's is a place I've been wanting to check out for a while, even though my piano chops are so rusty my fingers might fall off if I tried to arpeggiate a chord (from the Italian arpeggio, to run across the keyboard). Barry, the British antiques maven, talked me up to Dahn, the musician/singer working at Jeremiah's. I got a chance to jam with her on bass, and she was so impressed she split the tip jar with me that same night (a not-too-shabby $24 -- that's more tips than I ever got with Buster).
I've been in there for the past few Thursdays and Fridays, and on the 17th of June I'll be covering Dahn as she takes a well-needed rest. So, now the question: how do I do this on guitar, musically speaking? I'm not Johnny Loungelizard, and it just wouldn't work for me to play "The Girl From Ipanema" all night. Burt Bacherach stuff from the 60's has been beaten to death by every human being in the English-speaking world, although it might be one of those "so old it's new" kind of moments. There's got to be somewhere that my groove fits in.
Speaking of Buster, I feel like we've come to an end. For the very first time, I've turned him down for a gig, a last-minute out of town private party. He kept insinuating that he didn't want to haul all the gear, the van might not be able to make the trip... even that he wanted to go back to using his drum machine. That's very comforting for a drummer to hear (I've been drumming for Buster for more than 2 years). I was running around, wet from the shower, combing my hair with one hand and tucking in my shirt with the other, and my knee popped. I called him to say I wouldn't be able to make it, and no sooner did the words "bad knee" leave my mouth, than he hung the phone up in my ear. Yeah, whatever.
Jeremiah's, the steakhouse across the street from the coffeehouse/antique store, was a recent place for my continuing musical exposure. The piano bar at Jeremiah's is a place I've been wanting to check out for a while, even though my piano chops are so rusty my fingers might fall off if I tried to arpeggiate a chord (from the Italian arpeggio, to run across the keyboard). Barry, the British antiques maven, talked me up to Dahn, the musician/singer working at Jeremiah's. I got a chance to jam with her on bass, and she was so impressed she split the tip jar with me that same night (a not-too-shabby $24 -- that's more tips than I ever got with Buster).
I've been in there for the past few Thursdays and Fridays, and on the 17th of June I'll be covering Dahn as she takes a well-needed rest. So, now the question: how do I do this on guitar, musically speaking? I'm not Johnny Loungelizard, and it just wouldn't work for me to play "The Girl From Ipanema" all night. Burt Bacherach stuff from the 60's has been beaten to death by every human being in the English-speaking world, although it might be one of those "so old it's new" kind of moments. There's got to be somewhere that my groove fits in.
Speaking of Buster, I feel like we've come to an end. For the very first time, I've turned him down for a gig, a last-minute out of town private party. He kept insinuating that he didn't want to haul all the gear, the van might not be able to make the trip... even that he wanted to go back to using his drum machine. That's very comforting for a drummer to hear (I've been drumming for Buster for more than 2 years). I was running around, wet from the shower, combing my hair with one hand and tucking in my shirt with the other, and my knee popped. I called him to say I wouldn't be able to make it, and no sooner did the words "bad knee" leave my mouth, than he hung the phone up in my ear. Yeah, whatever.
posted by bigmanKY @ 1:07 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home